My Prophecy
by La-Gothice-Sorcier
Summary: Alternate reality. I am a Woodbane prodigy. I want to live up to both my Fathers darkness and my Mothers light, but I know I must eventually choose. Now my lover and a mysterious Seeker both threaten my path, my life is in the Goddess's hands, not my own.
1. Woodbane Princess

Chapter 1:  
  
Woodbane Princess  
  
[Hey all. This is my first fan fic and it's about Morgan and what her life would have been like had Ciaran and Maeve ended up together. I know it's been done before but this is from a different angle and a different story. I'll need at least one good review before I'll post chap.2 so get reading and get writing. Hope you like!]   
  
It's almost Samhain, finally! It feels like years since Madron, and this is going to be much bigger, better and more powerful.   
  
Another plus side is were not having to fly half way round the world to get to some stuck-up old hags *cough* Selene *cough* Belltower*cough* multi-million dollar mansion in the middle of bloody no where 'cause Dad is hosting it for most of the coven this year. And that might mean having to get over any social claustrophobia that  
  
might have struck me and that Mum's going to be moody 'til Yule, and that I have to see Selene again and be in my best "I'm gonna breed you loadsa lovely mini-powerhouses someday" with the old cow (there goes the idea of sticking a sprig of deadly nightshade in her tea).  
  
And then there's good old Cal. Last time I saw him was when I was 16. We had some, ahem, fun (who wouldn't?), but if his head got much bigger I doubt his poor neck could stand the strain. Still, it should be interesting.   
  
Morgan  
  
"...And bring it down." I heard my father speak from across the room, rudely interupting the magickal coma that I was high on.   
  
The destructive, addictive energy that had pulsated through everyone of us was leeched away in a second. We all sat, not the most graceful of activities for a circle of over a dozen people.   
  
Automatically, I bent over and placed my head to the stone floor, grounding myself. Breathe in, I thought, energy out. I barely noticed the sickness now. For months after my initiation a few years ago, I had felt so terrible with the charge of energy that I got from circles such as this that I had vomited violently before my forehead   
  
had a chance to touch the ground, although this was only a minor, prepatory circle before Samhain. Of course, anyone that dared mention it could expect a verbal decapitation a la moi.   
  
I looked up and saw Mum walking accross the grand hall, auburn red hair bouncing dignantly. I realised I was the only one who could see her, she had blocked hersle from the others. I sighed. She only ever walked like that when Dad's coven were here, so stiffly, so icily, so unlike her usual fiery self. Fire fairy. Brahadair.  
  
She snook a look at me, curiousity getting the better of her. The disappointment and love in her green eyes hit me like an arrow through the chest, as it always did. She looked away, her purpose served, to make me feel as guilty as sin to be seen in a circle with Amyranth.  
  
"Good work everyone," Her muirn beatha dan said looking admirably around at all of us, lingering deliberately for a few seconds, on me. Him rubbing it in that I shouldn't hold onto energy longer than was required blah blah blah. "Brilliant wor-..."  
  
"Well I have to say, a more graceful ending than last year, li'l sis'."  
  
Abruptly, I broke away from the witches either side of me and swivelled round. Lingering in the stone arch doorway, looking playful and mysterious under a flame torchlight, dark hair messy, looking as if a three year old had dressed him, and, of course smiling, stood my older brother.  
  
"Killain!" I grinned, half running to his open arms. After swinging me around several times he set me down. I smacked him on the shoulder.  
  
"Ouuuch!" He exclaimed, rubbing the area as if it had actually hurt, "what was that for?"   
  
"A, for mentioning the incident last year" (one of the worst vomit occurances and Killians favourite story) "and B, for not telling me you were going to show up!"  
  
"Why? Would you have baked a cake?" He teased.  
  
"Ahem."  
  
We both looked around to see our deeply pissed-off father.   
  
"If you could please save the reminising session until after the circle Killian, Sgiurs dan was busy."  
  
I obediently walked back to my place in the circle. I hated it when Da used my coven name, The destroyer. Honestly, it makes me sound like some three year old kid's cheesy action figure, even if it the name of a prophecy. My prophecy.  
  
Da glared at Killian until he turned to leave and then launched into some speech about all Woodbane strength and power. Sometimes I wondered if he just used the same speech over and over again with an extra "council scum" and "rightful legacy" thrown in each time.  
  
*  
  
After what seemed like hours, the circle broke off and everyone either walked off to the kitchen where Mum had no doubt prepared something edible before sulking off to bed, or they left to there own B'n'B rooms in the neighbouring village. I was about to reach the stairs to my own bed, when someone grabbed my arm.  
  
"Hey," said a ethereal creature with caramel eyes and a musty air of expectation about him.  
  
"Hi Cal," I replied, deciding to act cool, while still not sure whether I was glad to see him or not, "I'd ask how your flight was, but couldn't honestly give a damn."  
  
"I know, shame I didn't get a chance to say hello before the circle, but anyway, we have much more fun things to do than make small talk," he said, staring at me, him obviously figuring, in a seductive way. He took a step up the stairs.  
  
I felt eyes on me and Cal. Ignoring his hint, I looked around our houses entrance hall, and saw two pairs of eyes glancing at us through heated conversation. One pair golden, like Cal's, the other, brown, like mine. Dad and Selene. Plotting.  
  
I reined in my anger. It was common knowledge that me and Cal had been as good as betrothed to eachother since even before I was born, and even more so when my power became more evident, Selene had made damn sure of it. Well, might as well play along for the cameras.  
  
I pressed my lips onto Cal's, surprising him, I usually needed a little more cajoling than this. I couldn't see it, but I knew my Dad's eyes had widened at this. Ha.  
  
We somehow managed to navigate the staircase without removing our tounges from eachothers throats and stumbled to my doorway. Cal broke away and pushed open my door.  
  
"Where do you think your going?" I asked.  
  
"Where does it look like?" He replied, going to kiss my neck.  
  
I swerved infront of him, blocking his way. "Not tonight, Cal," and with that and a smug look on my face at his obvious bewilderment, I closed my door in his face.  
  
[So, you like, you don't like? So-called "conctructive critism" is welcome, but compliments and worshipping is too!]  
  
  
  
. 


	2. Stronger than desire

[Hey all. After the overwealming response to my first chapter (yeah, right) how could I possible deny you a second one? And this time   
  
would people actually REVIEW before I get really angry, and release all the wrath of Amyranth upon you!?!  
  
PS: Oh yeah, and I do not own Sweep/Wicca etc]  
  
Selene and Cal are in Scotland. I just got off the phone from Kennet claiming they booked on the San Francisco to   
  
Edinburugh flight just hours ago. After searching and working for months to get something on them. This royally buggers things up, but   
  
what else could I expect?  
  
Kennet also said that he would send someone else over to Scotland in my place as I had made so much progress here  
  
in San Fransisco. I told him not to. That I had spent too much time and energy trying to nail Selene and Cal for all that they've done,  
  
not just to my family but to thousands worldwide. After a while he reluctantly agreed, but said that I should be careful. He had heard  
  
rumours about the house where they are suspected to be staying. In the middle of the highland nowhere, rumours of foul magicks, and also   
  
that it was suspicious how Selene was travelling over seas, especially at such a prominent time in the Wiccan calender. A top-ranking witch   
  
like her isn't likely to move from her post in the San Fransisco branch, not now, and not without a serious interior motive.  
  
Sky has just come in to tell me that she has booked the plane tickets to Edinburugh airport, to depart at 7 am tomorrow.  
  
I swore along time ago that on the memory of my parents and my brother that I would find who was responsible for tearing my  
  
family's life apart, no matter what the danger or the risk. I would gamble everything I have to see that bitch and her scumbag son under my  
  
braigh.  
  
-Giomanach  
  
"Morgan,love! You want jam or marmalade on your toast?" My Mother shouted from downstairs.  
  
I groaned into my big white pillow. Mum had gone through a brief period years ago, before she had me, when she hadn't used her magick at all,  
  
out of fear when her birth coven, Belwicket in Ireland had been destroyed. The whole deal is a pretty sore subject in the house, but she still yells, wasting   
  
the silent and far-less-loud-on-her-sleeping-daughter, Goddess given talent of the witch message.  
  
"Just margerine please, Mother". I sent, showing her how it was done. I snuggled my sheets again.  
  
"Sweetheart, please get down here, I need more conversation than Madam Belltower over here." She interupted, using the proper method. I sighed. I  
  
should have known. My Mother might dislike Amyranth and all Dads business in it, but she completely dispises Selene, possibly even more than I do. I   
  
better go and break it up.  
  
*  
  
After pulling on my slippers and saying my mental goodbyes to my dream of a Sunday morning lie-in, I slumped into the dining room. I looked  
  
around at Cal and Selene, hearing Mum bustling around in the kitchen. Dad must have run off for an mystery errand. I sighed. Big fat surprise.  
  
"Good morning," said Cal, radient as always."Good night?"  
  
I licked my lips. Damn him, what right has he got to look that sexy on a Sunday morning?   
  
"Oh, just fine..." I stopped. Selene was glancing at us from over the rim of her coffee cup at the other end of our antique pine table, Mum's pride  
  
and joy. My hackles went up. "Good flight,was it Selene?" At this point, Mum appeared and landed my plate of cold toast down infront of me irritably.  
  
"Yes, Morgan, tremendous," Selene replied Suavely, ignoring Mom, "beautiful view over the Atlantic-"  
  
"You want your coffee re-heating Selene, it must be cold by now," Interrupted Mum icily. The perfect housewife.   
  
I sighed. I had to get out of here. I turned to Cal, "Look, how about I go get dressed, and then I go show you around our fair house?"   
  
He agreed and I got up and walked through the lounge. "Uggghhhhh," I heard the sofa grunt. I smiled for the first time this morning. Killian.  
  
And sure enough, over the back of the black leather couch lay my extremely hung-over, unconscious brother, covered in beer cans, sprawled all over it.  
  
Well, I can't let him drown in his own drool, I thought. "Kill', Anne Robinson called, she wants her little stud-muffin to come home."  
  
His eyes opened. "Hey sis'," he slurred, "Ughh, dear Goddess, my head."  
  
"Serves you bloody right," I smiled. He gave me his puppy dog look. "No, Killian, you deserve every deceased brain cell."  
  
"Go on, I'm in pain." He moaned dramatically.  
  
"Oh, fine then," I placed my hand over his forehead. This was pretty basic magick, just to give a temporary illusion to the witch it's performed   
  
on that they are completely sober, whether that be the night or the morning after. And, of course, one of Killian's and my specialities.  
  
I felt his headache and sickly nausea hit me, although I knew I was only feeling a slight fraction of what he was. Idiot, I sent to him, as I felt my   
  
energy transfer to him.  
  
"Thankie," He smiled. I playfully smacked him around the ear and ran up to change.  
  
*  
  
"We really should go in," Cal said, my arms around his waist, feeling the setting sun on my back.  
  
"Yes we really-," I stopped as he started kissing my neck. I giggled, "-really, really should."  
  
He held me tighter, pressed up against the the house. I looked out over his shoulder and my homes moors. The dying evening sun was just perched on  
  
top of one of the tallest mountains. First there was the valley moors, then there was the thick pine forests, buzzing with springing deer and singing   
  
sparrows and then the beautiful mysterious mountains, all bathed in a beautiful orange glow. I breathed in the crisp air and let contentment fill me.  
  
Cal leaned back and held me closer. He pushed my long brown hair behind my ear and he scanned my face. "What are you thinking?"  
  
"That you look incredibly gorgeous," I replied to his golden eyes. He smiled his beautiful smile and kissed me. He tasted warm, exotic and   
  
exciting.  
  
"I'm not the only one," he said. I stiffened. I hated being complimented. It always embarassed me, made me suspicious, like they wanted   
  
something. Anyway, it was obviously always a lie. I'm as plain as they come. If it wasn't for my power, I'd as good as blend in with wallpaper. A large   
  
nose, drab brown eyes and hair and not a cup size to speak of, not exactly super-model material.  
  
"I love you, you know." He said. My heart stopped. Where the hell had that come from?! I searched into his eyes and directed my senses  
  
wodering if it was true. He held my gaze. I felt nothing but affection and desire and...love. I didn't know what to say.  
  
"We should go in," he said after I stood there speechless for a few seconds. He led me by the hand back into the house. I hardly noticed where I   
  
was going. I was in a daze. How on the goddess's earth could Cal Blaire love me?  
  
[NOW REVIEW. REVIEW. REVIEW. In one of the next chapters I might change the POV to Hunters. Not Cal's coz I just plain dont like Cal. So   
  
REVIEW] 


	3. Part of The Sun

[ Hey Dudes! A better response to the last chapter though I still want MORE reviews. I pretty much most of the story line figured out and am dying to write it, apart from that age old question, who should Morgan end up soul mates with, Cal/Hunter? Decisions, decisions…oh well, enjoy!]  
  
We arrived today. Too bloody early in the bloody morning. From the view I saw when I walked into the B'n'B where Athar and I are staying, Barra head looks small, quaint, very nature based, moors and mountains as far as the eye could see, only one road leading up to and through it. The perfect place for ordinary witch's to make their home. It's almost a shame the witch's I seek are not ordinary.  
  
I'm going to rest now, I'm knackered, and walk up to this mysterious house later, under cover of darkness. I asked the owner in passing about it, he says it's a family that lives up there, Father, Mother and daughter. They apparently keep themselves to themselves, no one can even tell me their last names. Recently though, he told me, they have had many visitors, extended family so he says, visiting. Several are said to be staying in the village, though he couldn't tell me where.  
  
I feel I may have unearthed something big here. I can't help but think I am getting close to…something. I hate to say it, in case I jinx it but, the idea springs to mind of Amyranth, and the predictions and rumours coming from the Council of their mysterious new weapon.  
  
-Giomanach  
  
I had never thought about it before. Those 'three little words' and all that, it always seemed just too corny, too perfect to be real. It's funny really, in Wicca, those 'three little words' are only supposed to be said by your another 'three little words'. But no, I didn't dare let myself think about that.  
  
Mum and Dad say it to each other all the time, whenever Dad's coven aren't sniffing around, sucking up power. It just seems natural that they would. They were meant to be. Even I say it to them.  
  
But now I had heard it for myself, known it for myself…and I didn't have a clue what to do.  
  
"Morgan?"  
  
I jumped up. My Dad was looking at me peculiarly. "Huh?" I said, clueless.  
  
"Nice to know you missed me."  
  
I looked up at him for a second, completely clueless. "Oh right, your back!"  
  
I jumped up from my chair at the breakfast table and hugged him.   
  
"Thank you!" He hugged me back.  
  
I knew better than to ask why exactly he went away. You had to learn to just accept some things when your Fathers a leader of a Wiccan terrorist organisation.  
  
I saw Mum smiling at us from across the table and Killian on her right, wolfing down cereal. Selene and Cal had gone to enjoy the Scottish highlands before I woke up. Just the family. The way I liked it. Less to think about that way.  
  
"Oh you want more cereal, Killian?" Mum asked, seeing he had finished the 10% corn flake, 90% sugar concoction that was my brothers favourite food stuff, apart from anything alcoholic, of course.  
  
"Sure yeah," he replied. My Dad gave him a look. "Please." He added.  
  
*  
  
When breakfast was over and I was faced with a whole Monday without anything to do but sit and think about everything, my depressed confusion settled back onto me.  
  
It wasn't so much that he said it, most of it was whether I felt the same. I mean, I fancied the arse off of him, no question. So my wanting him wasn't any problem, but emotionally…I had hardly thought about him since last time I saw him, Ostara when I was 16, I had hardly thought about him. Well, apart from what he looked like without clothes, but that's just shallow desire, nothing I hadn't ever felt before.  
  
To stop me tearing my hair out, I decided to scry. I can't decide my own future so let my future decide itself.  
  
Still trying to decide if that made any sense, I snatched a little green tea light from my cupboard and sat down, cross-legged on my bedroom's purple carpeted floor. I liked my room. Mum and I had decorated it last year. It had purplish-lilac walls and a mauve carpet. Well, all lilac apart from the wall with the window. That was a dark shade of violet. Mum had said that "it gave the room depth".  
  
I lit the candle with my mind and stared into it's impossibly yellow flame. I always felt it was like my little part of the sun. Tiny but fierce. Like me.  
  
An image began to invade my consciousness and I waited for it to fully form. Come on, I thought, you have no clue how much I need to know this.  
  
I sensed it before I saw it. A braigh. My eyes tingled at the venomous, silver chain as if it was burning me there and then. I had only ever seen one. My Dad kept one, a souvenir of a battle against a particularly tough Seeker that was hard won. I hated it.  
  
I saw a man holding the braigh. Well, less of a man, more of a boy. He was very fair and pale, emeralds where a normal persons eyes should be and cheek bones so strong he could have sharpened them. He could have looked like an angry elf in a fairy tale, if it wasn't for the strength and overwhelming determination I felt from him. He was a man with a mission. Although I despised the disgusting implement I had seen in his hand, I couldn't help but begrudge some respect for his strength.  
  
All of a sudden the image changed. The colours all turned drastic and red. The image was foggy and I knew this could not be good. In fact, all I could see was red. Blood red. But no, some of the red was different, darker, deeper…auburn red over blood red…  
  
The image blinked out so fast I felt disorientated. The candle had burnt out. Well, that helped, I thought bitterly, have to go to plan B.  
  
*  
  
"Killian," I said, half an hour later.  
  
"Yes sis'," he replied, still staring fixated at some cartoon on the TV.  
  
"I wanna go get wasted. Wanna go to the pub?"  
  
That got his attention. "Just let me get my coat," he replied, ginning his cheeky grin. Good old Killian, I smiled, always there when you need him.  
  
[ok so like I said, REVIEW, cause seeing as you've just read it, at least have the courtesy to review it. Thanks Dudes.] 


	4. The Stranger

[Heya Dudes! Sorry I took so damn long on this, it took a few drafts, if you know what I mean.  
  
Anyway, it's my half term holiday for the next week so hopefully I'll update a bit more. And so, here goes chapter 4, and who could this mysterious blonde, emerald-eyed Englishman be, hmmm?!?]  
  
I am rested and about to go up to this mysterious house on the moors. Sky wanted to come, but I told her I would only be performing a routine search of the outside tonight, so she should go take  
  
in the delights of a quaint Scottish village. Last I saw of her she was heading towards the pub.  
  
As for the house, I can't help but feel apprehensive. I have an odd feeling about this place, though I can't put my finger on it. I may have stumbled onto something big.  
  
-Giomanach  
  
"Time, Gentleman please!" Came the cry from the Landlord of the 'Golden Goose' pub, though Killian and I hardly heard it. We were too busy singing along with the pianist.  
  
"What shall we do with a drunken sailor?  
  
What shall we do with a drunken sailor?  
  
What shall we do with a drunken sailor,  
  
Early in the morning!"  
  
  
  
Killian laughed drunkenly into his beer glass while I called for another round. "Aaron, my good man!" I slurred to the old landlord, who wasn't surprised by our behaviour. He was a Brightendale and well  
  
accustomed to my brother and I wasted. "Two more Guinness's, extra strong!"  
  
"I canne', lass," he replied, reluctantly, "Closing time."  
  
What? I looked over at the old clock in the corner. It took me a few seconds to realise that a long hand on 12 and a shorter hand on 11, meant 11 O' clock, and closing time.  
  
"And not even the courtesy of a lock-in for your favourite customer's!" Shouted Killian, his arms around my shoulders and rocking me with him as he swayed, perching on the side of the piano. A   
  
lock-in is a technically illegal thing where landlords lock their doors and pretend like they were closed, because you couldn't stay open after 11, but they kept on serving trusted customers inside. Aaron  
  
gave him a jolly smile and nothing else.  
  
Aaron turned and began talking to a witch I didn't know just on his right, at the other side of the bar. A pretty girl, blonde and tall, not what a little village like this was used too. But I   
  
didn't like her. She had been eying my brother and I superiorly all evening and I got had gotten big vibes of distrust from her. Well, before I started seeing double and ceased being able to walk in a   
  
straight line. Instead, I'd drank and sung more loudly just to spite the moody snob.  
  
While in conversation with Aaron, she glanced over at us. Killian met her gaze with a wink and I saw a spark of surprise in her eyes. She turned back to Aaron, to, I figured say goodbye, and   
  
gracefully glided through the pubs wooden doors. Ignoring us both.  
  
"I think your in there!" I joked.  
  
"You may laugh, but you underestimate my persuasive powers," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.  
  
"Please, she looked at us like we were shit on her Prada boots," I said, picking up my jacket and walking to the exit with the few our singing hadn't driven away.  
  
Killian said nothing just kept staring in the direction that I could see her stalking off into. He started staggering after her.  
  
"And where do you think your going?" I asked, trying to maintain my dignity by leaning against the crooked stone wall that lead into the hills and eventually to our house.  
  
"After my destiny, my dear, my destiny!" He yelled and walking gracelessly away from me, "Don't wait up, and with any luck, I'll be back in the morning!" And he turned around and skipped after the   
  
mysterious blonde.  
  
Cursing my brother, I began the 20 minute freezing hike home. The moon was full and clear, making the heather of the moors and mountains silver lined and beautiful. I looked up at her. Why had I   
  
wanted to drink tonight? It must have been something big, for me to order six pints of Extra strong was once upon a blue moon. Or a full one.  
  
  
  
Almost half an hour later, I heard the familiar crunch of gravel under my boots as I climbed the steep drive to my home. I would have took so damn long if I hadn't staggered and landed in one of the ditches  
  
intended to stop the sheep from getting up onto the mountain roads. In my frozen and drunken state, it had taken ages to haul my arse out of it. I was bloody glad no one had been there to see it.  
  
I used my mage sight to locate the front door. One of the few senses available while off my face. Quite useful really.  
  
I saw a big grey car just a few feet up the drive. Between Mum's Toyota and Selene's mean green machine. Was that there when I left? I thought suspiciously.  
  
Still wondering about that car, I staggered further up the drive. I got to my front door. Keys, keys, I thought. Searching my pockets. Shit. I gave them to Killian. Ugh.  
  
Cursing myself and my brother, I stalked round the back of the house, hoping I could still wake up Mum or Dad.   
  
I stopped dead. I could hear the husky hiss of whispering from the shadows. Not just whispering. I felt a tiny pulse of energy coming from the whispering. Whoever was saying it, this was a spell.  
  
I took a step back silently, snapping a twig. Shit. The whispering stopped. I stared into the darkness beneath the pine trees, metres away from me. Something was there...  
  
Suddenly I saw something shift in the blackness. A turn of the head to look at me. Whatever was there began to slowly creep backwards. "Hold it!" I shouted, trying to sound a tiny bit challenging in my   
  
nervous and frozen state.  
  
The something stepped forward, into my vision. Not a something, a man. Not just a man, a witch. Tall, almost lanky if his shoulders weren't as broud. His hair was messy, in a rugid way, and fair  
  
from what I could gather at 11:30 at night. He looked casual if not for his face. Everything there from his interogating eyes to his angular, sculpted face progected someone who would not stand to be messed  
  
around.  
  
I held his stubborn green gaze as I mentally examined him. I resented this. Here he was, in my garden, trespassing on my families property and he had the nerve to give me a look as if I was the guilty one.   
  
Still, he stared at me, challenging me. If he expected me to back down, he had come glaring at the wrong witch.  
  
Finally, he spoke, "And who might you be?" An Englishman.  
  
"I could ask you the same question," I replied, prickly. The nerve of him to question me.  
  
He continued to stare at me. Fine. "Sian, Sian Murphy", I lied outright.  
  
"Surely you shouldn't be out this late, Scottish moors are never the most accommodating places to take a stroll over this close to midnight."  
  
And now he mocks my home and my ability to protect myself. "Why, in case a marauding sheep mistakes me for grass and eats me?" Ha, take that, "I'm collecting heather, you know, for Samhain?"  
  
"At near midnight?"  
  
"Yes..." I hesitated. why would I be out this late on some Highland moors? "You know the purifying properties of the moon?"  
  
"You obviously have a very particular coven."  
  
"We like to do things right, traditionally, you know?" I said sinisterly.  
  
He paused, studying me. I could tell he felt my power, witches pupils always seem to expand a little when they first cast their senses over me, then they make special efforts to make conversation with me and  
  
make sure I was comfortable. Though not many every challenged me outright, as this person was.  
  
"How about I walk with you then," He said, "I could use the exersize, and a midnight stroll never hurt anyone."  
  
Now this I wasn't expecting. "What?"  
  
"With that heather, surely you could use two pairs of hands."  
  
"Oh," I hesitated. Damn my lager-soaked brain. "Sure."  
  
We walked in silence back around the house, him walking quickly and purposefully and me, trying my hardest not to stagger. Okay, I had to figure a way of ditching him and keep him from finding out my  
  
real name or that I'm pissed or that I live where he was snooping around, and still get back home before anybody gets up and finds that I've been out on the moors all night. I sighed. This is gonna be a long   
  
night.   
  
We stepped off my drive. I glanced at his face and caught my breath. The moonlight had shaded his pointed face in silver, taking away the hard, determined look he had in the shadows and making him   
  
look like he was made of marble, ethereal and magickal, annd I didn't like to admit it, kinda beautiful.  
  
He looked back at me. He held my gaze again. Though not like before. I felt no challenge from him. No barriers. I just saw his eyes, and the endless green of them, mysterious in the moonlight. And I   
  
knew he saw me too. All of me, like I felt I was seeing all of him, as deep as...  
  
I snapped my head away. He is a stranger. A trespasser. Just another witch sticking their nose where it wasn't wanted. Someone to be eliminated. He just stood there, dumbfounded.  
  
15 minutes later my hands were raw from wrenching heather out of the ground and both our arms were full of the useless stuff. I turned to him, avoiding his eyes, "It's late, surely your tired? I know  
  
I am."  
  
He looked at me, trying to challenge me, but not finding the effort, said, "I am actually," he started walking back, "well?"  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"Are you not walking back to the village?" He questioned me again.  
  
"Oh, ermm..." I hesitated again. "I've just remebered, I have something else I need to get, you go on."  
  
He glanced suspiciously into my eyes. I looked away. I didn't want to repeat what happened last time he did that.  
  
I waited until I saw his tall outline disappearing along the old stone road I had walked up half an hour before. Though right now, it felt like a lifetime.  
  
As I walked back, drunk and confused, two realisations hit me. One, that was the guy I had seen in the candle flame, hours ago. And two, I hadn't even gotten his name.  
  
[ok so there we have it, girl meets boy, girl is suspicious of boy, girl looks longingly into boys eyes, girl wishes to eliminate boy and boy walks off into the moonlight. So now please review, and I will   
  
try and get chap. 5 to you as soon a poss.] 


	5. Resilient

[Hey Dudes. Sorta unsure what to do for the next few chapters as there's a certain time and place   
  
where I want some big shit to go down, if you'll pardon my French. But hell, theres always confused,  
  
hormonal teenage mush to help fill up a few uploads so...enjoy!]   
  
A peculiar thing happened last night. Or maybe rather a peculiar someone. I met a girl, while I was  
  
looking around the outside of the house. By the way, all I found there was a few runes of protection.   
  
As I got closer to the house they seemed to get stronger, more sinister but I was interupted before   
  
I found anything remotely incriminating. Usually that would seriously frustrate me, but this girl has  
  
got my attention right now.   
  
I first saw her around half past 11, she disturbed me while I was spelling the runes to reveal   
  
themselves. Major peorth-athon. She was young, old enough to be initiated but probably not old enough  
  
to be as drunk as I could tell she was, however well she hid it. And yes, she was a witch,and a   
  
powerful one. Slim, brunette, pretty looking. She was quite prickly and reserved, nothing I'm not used  
  
to dealing with. But all I could get out of her was that her name is Sian, she supposedly lives in the  
  
village and that the reason she was out at near midnight was that she was collecting heather for her   
  
covens celebrations, not that she was wasted and had staggered out into the moors and possibly gone to  
  
the house to puke up.  
  
I went along with her pithy excuse, hoping to get information off her, when an odd thing happened.  
  
I just shot a casual look at her, when I just couldn't look away. I looked into her hazel eyes and, it   
  
was like the world fell away and we were just suspended. She was like an angel that I just couldn't stop  
  
take my eyes away from.   
  
She looked away first which made me feel like a right tosser. We didn't talk much again and avoid-  
  
ed her eyes until I could get back to the village. When I ran like a scared rabbit from a wolf.  
  
-Giomanach  
  
I stood on top of a green cliff, so green it hurt my eyes to stare at it. The wind was strong, blowing   
  
around my bare legs and night gown and streaking my hair across the morning sky, only I wasn't cold, I   
  
felt warm and comfortable. I smiled as I stared over into wild sea. Only it wasn't the sea I was smiling  
  
at. It was the clouds I could see blowing in over the horizon. Their colours were beautiful and mysterious.  
  
The same vivid veils as aurors in a circle. They were close now, swirling and spiralling towards me,   
  
against the wind. I felt panic ignite in my stomach like a candle flame. What were these clouds? Which of   
  
them would reach me first? What would happen once they did?  
  
But all of a sudden it was too late. The wave of colours hit me. I choked and stumbled back, through   
  
a millions of emotions. Rage, frustration, confusion, unbearable sadness, lust and...  
  
My foot slipped back. Pebbles sliding down the cliff. I felt my weight shift of the solid rock. The   
  
feelings left me and my heart lept into my throat. The only thing I could see was the freezing, spraying   
  
sea and ragged rocks rushing up to meet my falling body.  
  
  
  
I hit my pillow. My cool white pillow. I stared at it, breathing shallowly and quickly, confused. The   
  
colours? The cliff? The fall...  
  
Suddenly, nausea and sickness hit me. Urggghhhhhh, I almost screamed, before I comprehended why I felt  
  
like shit. Oh yeah, this is what the morning after a night out with my brother feels like.  
  
Well, I hadn't woken up with any strange, middle-aged men, nor with any facial tattoos nor any visible  
  
animal corpses, so it must have been a pretty tame night for us two, I smiled to myself. This caused my head  
  
to lump a painful warning. I swung my legs out of bed, only just realising I was still in the same trousers   
  
and even boots that I had been wearing yesterday. I showered, brushed my positively moulded teeth and hair   
  
and stomped downstairs.  
  
*  
  
"Whoa, what happened to you last night?" Said Cal, cornering me after a breakfast of watching Mum and   
  
Selene both fighting for Dad's attention.  
  
"Huh?" I asked, irratibly. I had been planning to sneek out to try and find Killian, not just so we   
  
could cure eachothers terrible hang overs, but also to see how his night had gone. He hadn't been at break-  
  
fast.  
  
"Me and Mum got in," He said, not noticing my mood, and slowly coiling his arms around me, "and you   
  
weren't here. Your Mom said your that brother of yours had taken you out, to the 'pub'." The way he spoke   
  
about Killian and the 'pub' worsened my ill-temper (no pun intended). I know pretty much anyone, involved   
  
with Amyranth thought of my brother as a no-good waster, splurging his power on flashy party tricks but he  
  
was my brother and I cared about him, but dissing the pub! That just wasn't funny!  
  
"I missed you," he finished, pushing my chin up to his face. He had told me he loved me only a day ago,  
  
I thought, the memory only just re-emerging from my woozy brain. And I hadn't told him it back. Maybe he'd   
  
lied. I could usually tell when people were lying. A trait I got from my Father. Maybe I had been too caught   
  
up in him, too emotional to recognise it. Dad would be ashamed of you, I told myself. Well, only one way to   
  
find out.  
  
I looked into his eyes suspiciously. There had to be something there that would tell me the truth. They  
  
really were golden. Caramel kind of. Not green. Huh, green? Where had I seen green eyes before? As soon as I   
  
had that thought, the image of the guy I had met last night developed into my head. I saw again his cockiness,  
  
his superiority, and, though I wished I hadn't, I remebered what I had seen when I had last seen those green   
  
eyes.  
  
"Err, Morgan?" Cal interrupted my thoughts.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You sorta, spaced. You think alcohol might not be too good for you?" He replied, trying to be funny.  
  
"Err, yeah, whatever," I said distantly. Someone, anyone please come along to get me out of this  
  
conversation.  
  
Dad walked up to us. I broke away from Cal. "Morgan," he started, being careful to emphasise me and only   
  
me, "could you go down Blue's, we're in desperate need of black candles. Pillars remember, I hate those taper   
  
things." 'Blue's', or rather 'Blue Moons' is the only Occult-type shop for miles around, down in the village.  
  
"Yes Dad," I replied obediently, but I was secretly sending the biggest "Thank you" vibes I could muster  
  
without Cal picking up on them.  
  
"Calhoun" Dad gave Cal a curt, stiff nod, Ciaran wasn't too keen on anyone who's tounge had been down my  
  
throat. Cal returned this, though his was more of a bow and Dad moved back into the breakfast room. I as good   
  
as ran out of the house.  
  
I heard Cal yell, "See you later!" As I slammed the door.  
  
*  
  
I began walking briskly up the road leading to the village, the same one I had walked so many times   
  
before. The fresh air seemed to give me a new lease of life. Sure, my head still pounded and my stomach was   
  
still, to put it politely, 'delicate', but still, everything seemed suddenly clearer when your surrounded by   
  
the Goddess's creation.  
  
"Hellllooooo?" I jumped. What the hell?! I spun round, trying to locate the groaning. Then, I saw a foot   
  
pertruding from one of the ditches I had fell into last night. Oh Goddess.  
  
"Killian?" I bent down over the ditch to see Killian, looking as wasted as I felt.   
  
"Hey sis'!" He laughed, "ughh," he clutched his head.   
  
"Here." I extended my gloved hand. He took it and with much effort, I heaved him out. I couldn't help but  
  
smile at him.   
  
"Oh Kill', how you didn't die from hyperthermia I'll never know," I said, putting my hand to his forehead.  
  
My brother, sensing relief from his state, put his hand to mine too.  
  
We both sank into shallow meditation, sending every pure ounce of energy we had to help mend each others   
  
states, to separate what the gross feelings of the hang over from what our consciousness could feel. It wasn't   
  
permanent, but it usually lasted for the most part of a morning-after. I took away my hand, feeling far better   
  
and more cheerful. "Killian, how'd you fancy a shopping trip over to Blue's?"  
  
*  
  
A few minutes later I pushed open the heavy door into 'Blue Moons, Discover the Occult and New Age Today!',  
  
Killian behind me. The shop was tiny, just a little hole-in-the-wall, which only ever added to the mysterious   
  
atmosphere of the place. Great for anywhere occult.  
  
I drifted over to the candles. I heard Killian say something about how this place gets smaller everytime he  
  
comes in here and I was about to reply when I heard someone walk down the stairs from the upstairs of the shop.  
  
Probably the owner, I thought, meaning to ask him about those black candles.  
  
"Thank you, for your time."  
  
Hang on, that wasn't the Scottish owners voice. I whirled round. I saw the same blonde boy I had seen last   
  
night coming down the narrow staircase into the shop. I was dumbstruck.  
  
Sensing my gaze, he looked up to my eyes. In that split second, I felt a spark ripple down my spine. "Sian,  
  
nice to see you again."  
  
Before I could think of a reply, I heard a "Sian?" Oh crap, Killian, I'd forgotten.  
  
"Who's Sian?" He came up behind me, "Mate, the girl your talking to is called Morgan."  
  
Thank you, so damn much Killian, I sent to him, trying to sound as spiteful as possible. Two pairs of eyes   
  
looked at me, both equally confused.  
  
"look, yes, my names Morgan," I said, wanting to straighten everything out, "not Sian, and excuse me for   
  
lying but I figured that it was the smartest thing to do when you see some strange bloke hanging around suspicious-  
  
ly at near midnight, without so much as a name!" I breathed.  
  
The stranger looked at me for a second, a mix of emotions in his eyes, disapointment maybe. I looked away.  
  
"Hunter, my name's Hunter Niall." He replied seeming tired and sad. I felt sympathetic.  
  
Killian was the first one to say something, "Hang on, Niall? Hunter Niall?"  
  
"Yes?" Hunter replied halfheartedly.  
  
"The Seeker, Hunter Niall?" Killian said. I suddenly became alert. A seeker?!   
  
"What? Why...is that true?!" I exclaimed, fearful, angry, and actually hurt. I had thought a lot of angry   
  
stuff about him, mostly that he was cold and unfeeling and irratated me, but, surely the pure soul that I had seen   
  
in him, couldn't belong to a council agent?  
  
"Yes, I'm a seeker," He said, without an ounce of pride, but still daring to look up at me as he said it. I   
  
looked back at him with more rage and hatred than I had ever let myself feel.  
  
Still he didn't look away. He seemed resilient. In a way that a frozen rabbit is resilient against a rapidly   
  
advancing truck. Resilient that his way was right. How niave, how pathetic. The energy between us crackled. Our   
  
conflicting emotions seemed to cut deeper than before. I was too ruthless to look away from his eyes. The green of   
  
them seemed right for my rage somehow. I knew I shouldn't let myself in as deep as I felt myself going nor let him   
  
in but I was too damn determined not too. I noticed his mouth, just below my glare. I hadn't noticed it before. I   
  
felt a twinge in my heart, I wanted to kiss him, taste him and he wanted it too, I saw it in his eyes. And it scared   
  
me just as much as him.  
  
[Soooooo, cliff hanger! REVIEW DUDES!!!!] 


	6. Jinx

[Hey Dudes. I have to admit I'm getting a little bored with this fic but I am gonna finish it because I like the story though I say it myself, I'm just to damn much of a lazy-arse to wanna be the one to write it. I figure I might need a bit of confidence-boosting if ya know what I mean *nudge nudge* *R 'n' R* But anyway, here commences chap. 6 of My Prophecy.]  
  
I have commenced with my questioning of the inhabitants of this place about that house. I spent a lot of the morning with the witch who runs the quaint little Occult shop, Athar talked to the pub landlord last night. Killing two birds with one stone, you might say. Getting pissed while on a job, I would say.  
  
But I saw that girl again, and once again, she peturbs me. I saw her and a male friend of hers after I finished in the shop. She seemed as sirprised to see me as I was of her, though I don't know why. And as it turns out, she had lied to me, her friend let it slip that her name was not Sian, a transparent lie that I could kick myself for not recognising, she is called Morgan. The name I'm sure I've heard before, if from Kennet or in my own head.  
  
Anyway, she was angry and as good as demanded to know my name. I told her, Hunter Niall. And her already infuriating friend also told her I was a Seeker.  
  
I have seen some looks of dispising, of outrage, in my work, but never one a venomous as that, and, never one that made me want to look away, that made me feel almost ashamed, like the looks Da used to give me when I had set Mum's favourite curtains on fire. I didn't look away though. Our emotions seemed to somehow penetrate eachother. I saw the essence of the Goddess through her fiery hazel eyes. And her power. Goddess, her power. It's like a horror film that I just can't stop staring at. And I know I want to see it again.  
  
-Giomanach  
  
I ran over the moors like the Devil was chasing me. I had to get away from him, away from his eyes. Away from a seeker. Dad would be disapointed, said my inner Woodbane. I told it to shut up.  
  
I stumbled up the drive, hardly noticing my heart punching against my chest.   
  
"Sis'! Mog, wait. Wait!"   
  
I flung open the front door, craving the safety of the house, almost running into Cal, who jumped back, sirprised. Killian burst in after me. Both looked pretty shocked at me. I felt deflated, emotionally burned, sick of confrontations. The rage I had felt was dying, leaving me. I felt I had left all my strength in the shop, magickal and physical. But I had questions.  
  
"Hey, sweetheart," Cal started, "I was just about to send out a search party-"  
  
"What else do you know about him?" I asked meekly and urgently, ignoring Cal.  
  
"Ermm," He replied, scratching his head vacantly, "well, he's a Seeker, like I said, err...young, about 20...an orphan, I think, parents buggered off somewhere, years ago, oh and...same Dad as him." He gestered towards Cal. Cal looked blank for a second, and then the penny dropped. I sensed his anger rising.  
  
"That bastard is here?! Urgh, God! He can't keep his nose into his own damn business," Cal exclaimed. He came to me, grabbing my arm roughly, "Did he do anything to you? Stick his trecherous nose in? If I had any idea he would turn up..."  
  
Cals rantings changed into background noise as I scanned his face urgently. There has to be a spark there, I thought, some connection, other than lust, to make me be with him, attract us to eachother. I looked at his sensuous golden eyes, his desert tanned skin, sexy mouth and extended my senses over his auror, exciting and exotic. But nothing. Shallow desire, pitiful to the emotion of minutes ago. The emotions I had felt.   
  
I felt as if the world had betrayed me. I stepped back onto the stairs and my eyes filled, my mouth hanging open, taking one last look at Cal before I let the tears fall. He looked back at me confusedly, and emptily. I ran to my room and slammed the door, leaving my brother and boyfriend standing in the hallway.  
  
My knees hit down on the carpet and I cried, kneeling on the floor. I was disgusted at myself for letting some stranger reduce me to this. There are plenty of Seekers in the world, hard-faced no-ones, sucking out innocents' souls and reducing them to human rubble. But Goddess, why did this stranger have to be one?  
  
I felt a prickle on my neck. The sort of prickle you feel when your being watched. Our scried for, I realised and extended my senses.   
  
Then I realised it wasn't. I was just me, my reflection in my mirror, across the room, staring back at me. The girl there was weak, I saw, her face was blotched and wet, hunched over on herself like a beggar on the ground, her soggy, long hair clinging to her red cheeks and her eyes shining and pathetic. I flung my arm out. My mirror shattered. I was not that girl.  
  
*  
  
I heard a knock at my door. I rolled over on my bed, groggily and sirprised at thew darkness that had flooded my bedroom. 7:15 at night. No wonder, I thought. "come in!"  
  
"Hey, love," Moms red hair appeared round the door and she came and sat at the end of my bed, "Kill' says you were a bit off after visiting Blue's. Your Dad wants a good excuse for not getting lose black pillars." She said, trying to make me laugh. I smiled, half-heartedly.  
  
She looked down at me concerned. "Wanna talk?"  
  
I sighed and sat up. "I guess."  
  
Rather than flick the light switch, I looked around my room at the hundreds of candles dotted about my room in turn, and lit them easily. I got to the last little tealight and we both jumped as it flamed high for a second and then spat out. That only happened when two witches tried to light the same wick. I grinned at Mom and said, "jinx". My mum hugged me.  
  
"You know when you and dad first met," I started akwardly, trying to get advice without having to tell the whole story, which she could easily repeat to Da, "how did you, you know, know that you...loved him?"  
  
She sat for a while thinking, rocking me slightly in her arms. Finally she said, "Don't know really. A few things. His eyes mostly."  
  
Normally, I'd be squirming in disgust at hearing anything remotely corny about my parents, but I needed help and I was closer to my Mum than almost anyone. This last comment bough a lump to my throat. "What, what about them?"  
  
"Well, your Dad always used to say he could see the whole universe of the Goddess in my eyes and I could in his. And life just seemed, dead, without him. Not really worth it."  
  
I knew the most basic details of what had happened with Mums old coven and its destruction and Dads coven, but I knew that they had been separated when she found out about his first wife in Scotland, Killians birth Mom and the mother of my two other half siblings, Kyle and Iona, whom I didn't know. Mum had then run away to America with an old friend who also survived after Belwickets demise, where Dad had found her and I had been conceived. Never a nice thought.   
  
"Why the sudden interest, anyway?" She inquired.  
  
"No real reason," I replied vaguely.  
  
"Something to do with Cal?" She said, wriggling her eyebrows suggestively.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
She gave me a kiss on the forehead, "well, whatever it is, dinner'll be ready in half an hour," and she left.  
  
So he really is then. He must be if what she's saying is true, I thought, pulling my blanket around myself. Oh Goddess, give me strength to do what has to be done.  
  
[ok, I KNOW this chapter, or at least it's ending might sound really repetetive and the story seems to be going slow but I figured I needed this chapter to kind of mediate, and I didn't think Maeve had had enough presence in the earlier chaps but I think I'm gonna get things moving a bit more once I actually get round to writing the next chapter. Review dudes] 


	7. Release

[Dudes, turned out I got the new chap done pretty soon! Ok, like I said, gonna move the story along and not gonna babble, so...]  
  
Giomanach is here. And his little lap-dog of a cousin, Athar. Urgh, why didn't we just finish him in Francisco!? When Mum told me that we would be spending Samhain with Neimhidh and his family (including various other MacEwan's) I told her, it would be the perfect oppurtunity to finish the job, that even if the council did somehow catch on then we would be no where in sight by the time they got another Wiccan Mulder-and-Scully to the states. But no, she had her own agenda, said that, "It wasn't yet time,". I wonder how her head works sometimes.  
  
As for Hunter, he's been pestering Morgan. She burst into the house today with her idiot brother in tow, looking as if she had seen a ghost. It made me want to raise a Taibhs right there and laugh when I felt his heart pound its last.  
  
I feel it's time to take this situation into my own hands, no matter what my plotting Mother says. Though what I suspect she has in mind for us all, could well finish this all.  
  
-Sgath  
  
  
  
"I think we should all go down to the village for dinner tonight," Dad stated abruptly, at near noon on Wednesday lunchtime.  
  
Me and my Mother's faces both looked up from our pork pies and salad, surprised. Dad? Wanting to mingle with the Wiccan commoners of Barra Head? 'What have you put in these pies?' I sent to her. She barely consealed a grin. "Why's that then, love?"  
  
"Fancied a change," He replied evenly, "No offence to your cooking." She lowered a perfect scarlet eyebrow at him playfully.  
  
"Well," Selene started, putting her cutlery down with a flourish, "I think it's a superb idea! Cal and I hoped to enjoy some good British quisine." All eyes turned to Cal.  
  
"Oh yeah," He said, "Steak and Kidney, who could resist?"  
  
I turned back to my salad, rolling the lettuce round and round on my fork. Well, it would be nice to get out of the house. But also, while inside the house it is less likely that I would run into the seeker and possibly another moment, especially if my parents and Cal would be there. I had been up most of the night, think about and dreading another 'situation' with him, and daring myself to tell Da that there was a Seeker in the village. But I knew what that would lead to. And, if I would ever be anything to him, I wouldn't be his murderer.  
  
After lunch I started up the stairs to my room. If ever I needed some time to meditate, it was now. Someone tapped my shoulder. "What!" I cried, irratably. I turned round to see Killian looking struck and kind of hurt.  
  
"Whoa, if it's that time of the month, at least you could have put a warning sign up." He started walking away.  
  
I watched him walk back into the parlour. I felt a pang of guilt creep up on me, but I pushed it back down. I had enough to think about without over-sensitive family members laying trips on me.  
  
I got up to my room and sat down in one of my favourite meditative positions, one that had never failed to relieve my stress and restore perspective. It involved lots of crossed limbs and loose shoulders. Just what I needed. Only I couldn't sit still. If my blanket wasn't creased under me then it was too light for me to keep my eyes closed. "Dammit", I swore in frustration. What else could I do?  
  
My eyes fell on the faded chalk circles on my bedroom floor, like scars on my carpet. Within a minute I had fetched out my athame and numberous candles, my pine box alter and velvet cloth and all the other items the spell. I hesitated picking up the beautiful ruby and obsidien athame that Dad had bought me just for rituals of this kind at my initiation. See, this spell is known for its accuracy, but the catch is, it involves blood letting. Only a small amount but still it makes it officially 'dark', at least according to the council. I smiled. It seemed ironic that I would use a 'dark' spell to analyse my feelings for a council agent. Remembering this ignited a small flame of hatred in my gut once again. Just get on with it, I told myself.  
  
I called upon the God and Goddess and elements as usual. I laid my athame, a silver chalice, a black candle and my wooden pentagram infront of me. I felt an uncomfortable, almost electric buzz over the thumping drum beat of my heart as I laid the knife accross my wrist. If I was stronger I wouldn't have to do this, I thought. Dad hadn't for many years, and Mum never touched anything remotely like this. Usually I just slid it cleanly and efficiently over a vein, not enough time to fret pathetically over the sting and the jolt of seeing your own blood, running into a chalice. This was my Mum's doing, I thought grimly. The Roirdans blood had run in light. Restricted themselves pointlessly, Da had said, cutting off your nose just to spite a beautiful face.  
  
One of the jet black stones encircling the ruby of the athame glinted in the candle-light. But, no, I was lying again. I didn't have this much trouble with this ever before. And I couldn't blame Mum for the fear I felt now. This was the Seeker again, his rightousness knocking me off track. Even the glints of the stones reminded me of him, the emeralds of his eyes, pulling me to him.   
  
Without me consciously being aware of it, I let the blade run down the tendon from the base of my thumb into the flesh of my arm. I wouldn't let myself be distracted. I sucked in breath, feeling the adrenaline rush that always came after the bitter, slicing pain of an injury of this kind. I tilted my arm to let the slowly pouring blood drain into my chalice. I waited a few minutes until I had bled enough, and ignoring the sting, ignited the thick pillar candle before me. I poured the blood over the candle, seeing it drain a beautiful marroon into the wax. The last drop finally quenched the candle. I saw the first of the smoke rise, and I breathed into it, "bethac nair."  
  
The smoke began to convulse and expand on itself. I watched unflinchingly as it began to sting my eyes. I saw my room through a veil of grey and tears began to well up. I knew this was all meant to happen, but I still hated the idea that I was on the verge of weeping. I made me feel as weak as I knew i was, but physically crying was like admiting it, owning up to the handicap of emotion. I saw an imprint of what I knew and felt to be an impression of Hunter press into shape in the smoke. I tried hard not to breathe in, but as I did I felt what I felt when I looked at him. The vulnerability, the embarassment, the connection, the...love?  
  
This shook me. What?! I hadn't even been properly thinking about him as I had breathed the spell, but there it was, sickening me, binding me in a terrifying way. More so than anything any corner of darkness could ever muster against me.   
  
I blow away the smoke and broke the spell, feeling broken myself. Oh why, had I let it get this far?! You could have stopped it, stopped him, stopped you! I argued at myself. But, you know what stopping him would have meant, I reasoned, death. A cold, harsh death that her Father dealt everyday, without a care. I cringed. That thought felt even more empty than the knowledge of what I felt for him. Oh Mother of all things, give me strength to bear this burden.  
  
*  
  
He was out there somewhere, I thought to myself certainly. Maybe in one of the B'n'B's, maybe staying in one of the cottages. I stared through the dusty window, out into the October night. The stars were out and shining, a the cold breeze was wisping a few golden oak leaves off of the tree, just out of view of the window, at the entrance to the pub. I sighed, twisted in my bench seat to still stare at the night. I barely felt Da's rough tapping of my shoulder.   
  
"Morgan, we're ordering, what do you want?" He asked pointedly. I blinked at him. "Oh, ermm...," I scanned over my menu, "The lasagne, please." I had definitely never inherited Dad's decisiveness.  
  
He smiled and nodded and with an unspoken agreement him and Killian walked over to the bar to order. I was left alone with Cal, Selene and Mum. The tension was palpable. Cal obviously sensed it, I felt his emotional squirming like a radioactive glow. Normally, I'd have found this funny, but I wasn't feeling my usual sadistic self.  
  
Mum looked around at the window, obviously hating the fact that she was alone with Selene, while Selene herself seemed to be scanning the pub, looking for something remotely interesting to beam her extroverted attention on. Finally, she settled on me. I groaned inwardly.  
  
"So, Morgan!" She said, sitting up, "how has your studying been going? I feel like I've hardly seen you since your initiation." I saw Mum roll her eyes. Cal was watching his Mother without much interest.   
  
I grudgingly began to explain the several trips Dad had taken me on in the few years since I had seen her last. Trips to numberous Amyranth hotspots, a few in London, France, New York even. We once went to Ireland and Mum amazedly wanted to come with us. While Dad and I had been socialising and exploring around the coast, Mum had taken herslef off and not returned for a few days. She had come back looking broken and tear-stained. I had expected Dad to either hold her all night until her beautiful smile returned, or to barrage her about being away for so long. But he hadn't, he'd simply kissed her on the cheek and told me that she was feeling down about something and to give her some space. Which both of us did. Of course, I didn't tell Selene all that.  
  
Half an hour later, we were all sitting around our firelit table, eating and drinking, talking about our magick, Selene and Mum slipping in subtle barbs at eachother at every opportunity, Dad pretending not to notice and treating them both equally, holding Mum's hand. Cal chiming in whenever possible, or when Selene or occasionally even Mum invited him. She didn't seem to hate him as much as she hated his Mother. Oh, of course, the thought hitting me half way through the meal, because of me. Because Mum wanted to be at least curteous to someone I was supposedly devoted to. Another nail in my coffin. I had never really considered Mum in all this situation, I realised sadly, it had only ever been Dad, and Cal and Selne and their dissapointment, hurt, possibly even rage, but she'd always thought it made no difference to Mum. She always seemed to accept her anyway, but this would matter to her. She might even be pleased.  
  
I noticed Killian gulping down the last of the bottle of Chardonnay. He had smiled and told his trademark anecdotes over the course of the evening and I had laughed as I did everytime he added another new exageration, another humourous detail, even to the stories of my circle sickness. But I could tell he was bored, staring absent-mindedly out at the night. He wanted to be away, to be staring at a new set of adoring faces, of pretty girls, a new set of bright club lights and pounding music. He would be gone within a week. This made me so sad, I felt like my heart would break on top of everything else. I remembered I had snapped at him today, and I hadn't apologised. He looked back at me then, sensing my stare and he smiled and his brown eyes twinkled with all the love of brother that I ever remember feeling. I smiled stupidly. At least some love isn't scary, I thought.  
  
*  
  
Cal cornered me half an hour later, just as everyone was leaving to go home. He seemed incredibly good at that.   
  
"Hey," he said, taking my hands, "how about a midnight stroll? You know, just the two of us."  
  
I looked back at my family as he said this. Killian gave me a cheeky 'go for it' look, Dad and Selene both had that expectant look on their faces that I seemed to be seeing more and more recently. Mum was just smiling at me sincerely. I suppose I couldn't refuse.  
  
"Well, a midnight stroll would mean having to stand around for a few hours until it actually was midnight, as, it's about half ten now, and it would be rather cold..." I trailed off my half-hearted teasing.  
  
"Well, then, you'll have to be wearing this then," He draped his denim jacket over my shoulders. It flattered me but I still felt awkward. He took my arm and we began to walk the opposite way from the trail to the house, through the village.   
  
We walked past the post office and supermarket co-op, around Blue's and up to the B'n'B, all the time talking about our family's, his Mother's and my Father's coven and the covens here in the village. Nothing amazing, but it was nice to be able to talk to him, although all the time I was internally coiled. I damned myself for not having the sense to down some of that Chardonnay to calm my nerves.  
  
All of a sudden, I went rigid. My senses had seemed to have twisted. I saw what looked like a glint of gold in the silhouette of one of the buildings.  
  
"What's wrong?" Cal whispered. I raised a finger to silence him. The glint shimmered as the person before us came into view of our magesight. The seeker stood, caught. For a split second, I was there just gazing at him. And seeing him gaze back. We both looked equally startled, like rabbits caught in headlights. His eyes were still green, the green that never grew old, was as breathtaking through each moment I was caught in them. He stared back. Were my dull muddy eyes as beautiful to him as his were to me? It seemed impossible but, for an eternity of milli-second, he knew me. And it was right.   
  
Suddenly a bolt of blue witch-fire ripped through our connection and smacked him clean in the shoulder. He staggered back, both of us suddenly recognising Cal in all this. "How dare you?!" He yelled striding forward up to Hunter, "How freaking dare you be here!"  
  
Cal aimed a punch at his brother's head, but Hunter dodged like a cat to be hit instead in the shoulder as he pushed Cal back. As he swung, I saw the silver braigh shining sadistically as his side, tasting victory. "I dare, because you deserve to be punished sgath,"Hunter spat, "You and that bitch of a Mother of yours!"   
  
I watched, dumbstruck, as the two fought eachother, both with witchfire, fists and verbal abuse. I heard Cal mention something about easing guilt, and something about Giomanach's 'skrewed up and over' family. I knew Giomanach was Gaelic for Hunter and obviously his coven name. I didn't understand the insult, but the rage in Hunter as he flung his full weight at Cal, punching him hard accross the jaw was enough to make me flinch. And I admit, however grudgingly, that I was scared. I was not used to this. The anger I had known between enemies was always cold and calculated in the world I had known, pent up behind a, sort of 'stiff-upper-lip' until a circle where you could know the joy of releasing your anger ruthlessly upon the victim in a wave of black and neccesary vengence. It's almost an Amyranth motto, revenge is best served cold.  
  
This was not cold, I thought as I watched the two brawling figures, willing to risk their own flesh horribly just to make the other suffer a fraction more. It seemed stupid to me, unacceptably reckless. And I knew I would not accept Hunter being injured, not for anything, I thought fiercely.  
  
I tried to think of a way to stop them when I saw the same shimmer of silver in Hunter's palms. I saw him step towards Cal, Cal making no effort to flee. Instead he ran forward, grabbing Hunter's wrists and trying to force them downwards, carefully avoiding the chain. They were both close now, barely centimetres away, Hunter trying to bring down his braigh, Cal forcing him to keep in up, away from him, the flesh he knew it would scar.  
  
All of a sudden, Cal kicked Hunter hard, and I felt his blinding rage increase as he fell to his knees on the concrete, without his braigh. Within a second, Cal had the chain encircling Hunter's neck, and was pulling tightly. Hunter's face looked determined not to break, not to scream in the agony that even an unburning braigh tight around even an innocent's neck would inflict. He eyes flicked to me. I felt my shock turn to anger and, without thinking I ran over to Cal and smacked my fingers onto his temple. I sent my energy serging into his mind, where I knew he had been to shocked to block in just the millisecond that it had taken to decide on action. I felt his physical at an nuwanted mental invasion, and I envisioned an explosion happening inside his head, before any of the thoughts and empathy of a tath meanma could encase me. I knew that this was a dirty trick, a nasty, sneaky little spell which the best Wiccan's, dark nor light would teach their children. Lucky I had such a spell-worthy brother.   
  
I left his mind and came back to my body, leaving the pain of the explosion I had envisioned in his mind. He sagged in my hands, unconscious and I let him fall. Frantically I turned to Hunter. He was kneeling on the path, rubbing his neck and looking up at me. I felt my heart beat and I was once again startled at the green of them. "Hi," I said, inadequately. He got to his feet, and set his jaw, seeming to decide to take control. How seeker-like.  
  
He looked down at Cal, barely hidden dispising in his gaze. "We should get him out of-" He stopped abruptly. Well, he couldn't really talk any longer. I had swooped in and, in a moment I would remember until my grave, pressed my lips onto his. His mouth was still for a second, in shock. I then felt his arms moving up to wrap around my back and I clasped my arms around his back, under his coat, letting his warth radiate through me. I felt a release as both of us let ourselves merge, our hearts beat in time. I knew his cheek was slightly swollen from the fight and I kissed him deeper for it. I needed this. I needed him. He was my oxygen, my life force. And the way he kissed me, I knew he knew it too. That he needed me, like essence, like magick. And magick wrapped us together under the moon as we kissed.  
  
[ok Dudes its finally happened! Please review cause this chap took a damn lot of effort and that effort dont come cheap, ya know!] 


	8. Secret Speaker

[Hey dudes. It took a while (or maybe just a li'l longer)for me to get off my arse and write this chapter but I am and I have been inspired to write the next few quite soon as well (but still, no promises). And a massive thank you to all of the nice reviewers including: Fallen destiny, Ganymade, Lady Paranoid, groovy angel12, cute babey gurl, book lover03, angelic scars, you know your right, rosewood1, jademoon, starrieyz342, magick wolf and vampypinqino, whoa thats a mouth-full. And with all those compliments dudes, it gives this chap a lot to live up to! But anyway on with the next passage thingy...]  
  
I kissed her last night. Well, more she kissed me. I was outside the B'n'B (the owner's constant smoking had finally gotten to me) at around midnight and staring at the moon. And She was definitely shining at me that night. And I did truly feel the Goddess.  
  
But, anyway I am getting complacent, wrapped up in my own head. Morgan seems to be good at doing that to me. But No, I am here on a mission, and one fling cannot interfere with it, even if I honestly wish it to be more. I don't even know her. All I know is her power. If I knew her last name, I could find out more, and I could also find out why the hell she was walking with Cal. We had a fist-fight infront of her before things got, ahem, unexpected. Nothing I couldn't handle, but it did embarass me. But it obviously didn't put her off, 'cause as soon as I had she walked up and kissed me. It was incredible, not just 'kissing' but sort of, connecting. Like no energy I had felt before. And she left before I could talk to her properly, after dragging Cal into an alley to wake up tomorrow.   
  
I am in a daze about this whole situation. It isn't like me. This whole place has turned everything on it's head. And I need information.  
  
-Giomanach  
  
"Have you seen Calhoun?!"  
  
I looked up from my untouched breakfast to see Selene bustling into the dinning room. Killian looked up at my side. It took a few moments for what she had said to register through my sleep-deprived head. Crap, Cal. I had left him in an alley in the village last night. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Goddess knows, I wasn't going to bloody drag him all the way back to the house.  
  
"Maybe he went on the razzle last night," Offered Killian lightly, "you know, have a taste of some proper Brit booze." Selene showed him a patronising smile, barely consealing her irratation at his input. I growled at her inwardly.   
  
"I haven't Selene, why?" I tried to act innocently concerned, "Isn't he still sleeping?"  
  
"I've checked his room, he isn't there." She answered, "his bed is made and I sensed no recent energies of him in there, so either he got up very early this morning or he didn't come home at all."  
  
She looked at me, expecting a reaction. "Well, he definitely came home. I was with him." I lied. I looked at my plate, trying to invent an reason why Cal would have taken off somewhere. "Well, the lavender is in season up in the woods. Maybe he took off to gather it while the morning dew was still fresh. You said it yourself, you can't beat fresh British lavender in circles."  
  
She sighed, magnanimously. "well, if you do see him dear, I'll be meditating in the parlour." And with that, she swept out of the room. I turned back to my bangers 'n' mash, not really seeing it. My head had been racing all night.  
  
I could still taste the seeker on my lips. I had been lying on my bed, thinking about what had happened all night. Walking back, I hadn't even felt the cold wind, I had been in such a trance. It had been quite amazing, there was no doubt about that. I had kissed boys before, mostly at school before I left just after my GCSE's. But this was different. This wasn't just a clumsy snog. It was like being in a circle, though not like it at all. Feeling the energy that all the ancients felt rise in them before it was lost, yet just encompassing me and Hunter. It had been pure happiness, pure passion. And it had happened between me and an agent of a corrupt and anti-woodbane terrorist power. For all I know, he could hate woodbane blood as much as the scum that control him do.  
  
I blinked the tears back into my eyes. I felt someones gaze at the back of my neck. Killian was staring at me suspiciously. He leaned forward, one eyebrow cocked at me. "Hmmmmmm," He said, stroking his chin puzzledly, "your off."  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"Your energy, it's all off. Your all different. Something's happened. But what?"  
  
Obviously, I wouldn't deny anything. He knew too well when I was lying. I mentally noted never to think that I could hide anything from Killian. For someone so cheerful and outgoing, he sure is damn sensitive. Or maybe he's just sensitive to you, I thought.  
  
"Well, if you must know, I'm seriously going of the idea of becoming Mrs Blaire." There, I thought, not a complete lie, "I-"  
  
"Oh Jesus, I knew that already," Killian interupted.  
  
My eyebrows lowered. "What? How on earth did you know that?"  
  
"Because I knew you had better taste than him, even if that blonde you ran of from is anything to go by," I almost blushed at this. I hadn't really explained that to killian, but as long as he wasn't pointedly asking, I wasn't telling," and because it's obvious..." He paused for a second, "you don't love him."  
  
I was dumbstruck. The one time my brother starts to be serious about human feelings, and it's while discussing my love-life. Wonders will never cease.  
  
Without warning, I walked over to him and put my arms around him. It startled him (I'm not generally the open-affection type) but he hugged me back.   
  
*  
  
A few hours later, I found myself aimlessly walking into the village. I half-heartedly told myself that it was because there was nothing to do at home apart from listen to Killian atempt at playing the electric guitar in the study, because everyone else was out having lives, but I knew that was crap. I wanted to see Hunter. I giggled, unexpectedly. My secret little...Hmm. My secret little what? What was he exactly? A crush? A fling? A...no, no definitely not. I walked on, deciding not to think about it. The situation is already skrewed up enough without you developing false hopes, I told myself.  
  
I suddenly walked into something hard and warm. "Oh hi," I heard from above my head. I looked up into Hunters green eyes. I stiffened with embarassment and stepped back. I mumbled something back, trying to hide a blush. Dammit.  
  
I let my face look up to his. He was looking me up and down. Measuring, kind of. I prickled. I hated being judged. I shrank back further. Finally he brought his green eyes back to mine. My irratation melted, sunken in the mesmirising green. They came closer. I only realised he was kissing me when his lips finally touched mine, nervously. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders. And I fell into him. I felt my spirit soar, intertwined with his, and one quote I had read somewhere which I had never quite understood until now blossomed into my head, "The wiccan heaven's are only trod through the warmth of your arms and the magick of your touch, my darling, my true love".  
  
We walked around the village happily holding hands, and all that corny stuff. We talked about the village mostly, a tame topic. We strod up the leaf littered streets and back 'round up to the B'n'B. "You never get the beautiful russet foliage back in England, save for a few parks. It seems to be a Scottish speciality." He said vaguely, twirling a sycamore leaf between his gloved fingers.  
  
"Would you prefer the boring brown?" I replied, taking the leaf from him. I concentrated on the leaf, and imagined sucking from it, falling back to nature as from it came. Easy stuff. I watched as the beautiful blood red evaporated away into crusty brown and shrivelled. I looked up at Hunter, smiling. But he was not smiling back. Instead he was staring at my eyes intensely and firmly, and I suddenly had the samll feeling of a child that had done something disappointing and stupid. I dropped the leaf and turned to walk on. He started, "Who are-" He stopped.  
  
"Hang on," He said suddenly. I realised that we had walked right back round to where last nights fight had taken place. And back to the alley where we had dumped Cal. Only...  
  
I stomped up the side of the B'n'B urgently, scanning the wet concrete. The moss and damp of the alley ws still there, but not a trace of Cal. "Oh crap." The thought suddenly hitting me, how bloody stupid can you be?! Of course he was going to wake up! You could have put a sleeping spell on him or make him lose his memory, but no, you had to be as arrogant as you always are and leave him! I practically swept past Hunter, needing to get back home as soon as possible, barely noticing his look of sour disgust at the empty alley, "He'll be back at the house," I muttered to him as I started up the road back home, "Oh Goddess I hope he hasn't had time to tell them anything."   
  
I ran up the concrete track as fast as possible, adrenaline and fear driving me. What if he's told Dad that I attacked him to save a Seeker? What if he's told Dad about the existance of a Seeker?! Through the raging questions, I barely realised Hunter's gaze tracing my form intensely over the moors.  
  
*  
  
15 minutes later, I slammed into the front door. I fumbled with my keys, a million paranoid thoughts crashing through my head. I cast my senses over the house, taking my longer than it usually did to unravel the blocking spells guarding the walls from those who would intrude in my panic. They were all back, and yes, so was Cal. My already thumping heart shot bile into my throat. Shit.   
  
Eventually, I stumbled into the hallway. I felt the eyes on me before I saw them. All five of them were gathered in the hallway, all silenced when I stepped in. Straight away I knew it was stupid to have thought I could have saved my skin. I scanned over every one elses gaze, and looked straight to my Dad. If any pair of eyes could strike fear, then it would be his. Kind of ironic, I inherited them. His brown eyes were lidded and suspicious, and I knew he was using every method of reading me without physically forcing into my head. He wasn't even bothering to be subtle about it. Surely that wasn't the look he would give to a daughter who had betrayed him with a seeker?  
  
Mum broke the silence first. "Morgan, is there something you have to tell us?"   
  
[Well there we are, cliff-hanger. I thought you deserved one after all the typo comments. I would spell properly, but I don't have spell check on this thing and I honestly can't be arsed to read through it all again!] 


	9. Hurricane

[Well...so much for not taking long. But anyway I'm here now, and complete with a new chapter! And thanks to all the people who gave me such lovely reviews, it's well appreciated dudes (and all those that were frustrated bout my gorgeous cliffhangers :P, hee hee). Anyway, on with the story...]  
  
I finally found out her name. Her full name. Her heritage. I knew I had to, when I saw her today. She was quite beautiful, as ever, and it felt amazing to be able to each out and hold her, and link hands with her walking through the village. Everything seemed so tranquil, I almost forgot myself. Until she drained the colour out of a leaf off of the ground. No regular witch would waste so much energy hastening the demise of something as insignificant as a leaf, not just 'cause the council dislikes it but it's frankly just a flashy waste. But it didn't seem to effect her at all. She was as bright as ever before.  
  
I almost asked her who she was out-right, but she took off just then, after seeing the place where we dumped Cal last night. Goddess, I should have spelled him or something. Another thing for me to kick myself over, but, well, last night I was quite preoccupied.  
  
Anyway, back to the point. As soon as she ran, I went back to the B'n'B and called Kennet. I described to him everything about her (well, not 'everything' exactly, ahem), and he told me he'd get back to me as soon as he knew anything. And he just has.  
  
The only record they had of her at all was her birth certificate and a decree for a change of surname certificate from a year later. She is the daughter of Maeve Roirdan, the last witch of Belwicket who has been missing for the last 18 years. And of Ciaran MacEwan. Of Liathach, and Amyranth. Goddess save me, I am in love with Morgan MacEwan. Of Amyranth.  
  
-Giomanach  
  
'I didn't want you to find out like this,' I spluttered uselessly to the five hard faces in front of me. You didn't want them to find out at all, I heard in my head.  
  
'Would you prefer we read it in the obituaries?' My Father came forward now. And, to my surprise, his stony face broke into a smile. It was samll and restricted but a smile none-the-less. I stood, mystified.  
  
'A seeker, found dead on a moor. Or might it have been you?' He said, smiling down at me, 'Morgan darling, I know your ambitious, and you want to be able to sort these, problems, out yourself, but you have no idea the consequences of ridding us of a Seeker. We'd have the council on our back in days, we'd have to move; layer the place with consealment spells; and we wouldn't be able to have a circle for months until the heat died down. It might not seem so, but amyranth have these plans for a reason. We have to be discrete in our eliminations, which is why you should have told us about this as soon as you knew their was an agent sneaking around the village.'  
  
I was dumbstruck for most of this speech, but towards the end I began to understand. And I played along. 'I just feel I need to prove myself, Dad. I mean, for the sgiurs dan, I don't ever really have much to do. And I never feel included in Amyranth. I just need to feel like I have some sort of role.'  
  
Da seemed convinced. He came forward and took my hands in his, 'I'm sorry my dear, I know it's tiring for you to be cooped up in this big house with nothing to keep you occupied. I am ignorant, but you need to learn slowly. I promise to include you more from now on,' At this point he kissed me lightly on the forehead. I still had my head bowed, playing the apologetic, meek little girl, 'Just don't go pulling any stunts like wasting a Seeker or knocking Sgath unconscious again, alright?' He whispered to me finally. I nodded.  
  
We both looked up to see Mum staring at us both intensly. Her gaze reaked of fear and rage. She raised her eyebrows, making her look hard and cold. 'And so it begins,' she said quietly, and with that, she swept out of the hall. A cold breeze seemed to follow her.  
  
I could almost sense Da's eye rolling in his head. 'I'd best go after her. Then, I'm going to talk to Alicia, talk to her about this Seeker problem. With any luck, he'll be out of our hair before Samhain.' And he turned ot walk out. Shit, that wasn't meant to happen. I ran after him.  
  
'Erm Da, don't speak to Alicia. I really want to finish this seeker business myself. I mean, you want a job doing, do it yourself, right?' I spat nervously. He eyed me suspiciously.  
  
'I'm sorry, Morgan, you heard what I said. We can't risk having the council-'  
  
'But, what is I made it so that he has nothing to do with the council?' I interupted. Ha, that got his attention, 'Da, I could make it happen. I could wrap him around my little finger. Please, I really want to see if I can do this.'  
  
'Well, from what I've heard it doesn't seem that this seeker is easily manipulated...' He started, but stopped when I started fluttering my eye lashes and doing my best innocent impression, and it worked like a charm. he smiled, 'alright then, he's all yours.' And he walked off, after Mum.  
  
Through this little interlude, I had hardly noticed Selene, Cal and Killian viewing the scene with some interest. Selene walked up to me and gave me a light hug. O..k, I thought.  
  
'Well Morgan,' She exclaimed, holding me at arms length, 'Welcome to the fold!' She kissed me on the cheek. She turned around and, either messaged Cal or had an invisible leash around his neck because after smiling almost sadistically towards me (god, he really must hate his half-brother), he lurked after her like a sick puppy. But I didn't have time to worry about that. Oh Goddess, I thought, holding my hand up to my forehead, what have I gone and done?! Now Da's going to expect a head on a plate, and I've gone and practically thrown my decision in Mum's face.  
  
I almost started pacing up and down, but Killian was still there, looking after the doorway to our study that Selene and Cal had disappeared through (Selene had wasted no time in worming her way into our bookcases). I turned and began to walk up to my room. I was sick of having to explain myself today, and Killian would need a lot of convincing. Just as I started wearily up the stairs, he spoke: 'Well, gone and signed your soul to the devil there, love,' I looked back at him, he looked back at me evenly, but disappointedly 'in more ways than one.' And he turned into the living room, swung himself onto the sofa and I heard the blear of a television from inside. I walked back down and sat next to him. I needed to saviour what time I had left of my life as I knew it, before I became an Amyranth intern. And that time was not best spent sulking in my room.  
  
  
  
*  
  
A few hours later, I lay sprawled with my legs over my brother and my head lolling over the side of our couch. My eyes were on the telly but had been glazed over and unseeing for the past hour, and the only communication Killian and I had had was the occasional moan to show we wanted the channel changing. Goddess, I would miss being a couch potato.   
  
I hadn't seen Cal or Selene for since I got back and Da had grumbled something about taking Mum out...hang on. Suddenly my senses prickled, disturbing my trance. I had felt a flash of a witch outside, striding up the moor. Only a glimpse of it, until they shielded themselves from view. It must have been deliberate, I calculated quickly, as I sprung up from the sofa and began to the front door, because Hunter wasn't the sort to forget something like that.  
  
I swung open the front door and ignored it as it slammed behind me. I ran down our drive, thanking the Goddess that Dad was not home. He appeared at the foot of the cobbles suddenly, and thankfully this time, I managed to stop myself before I slammed into his chest. Before I looked at him, I pushed his chest back behind the hedges and garage, 'What the hell are you doing-' I started irratably. But I stopped as I looked up. I felt the anger coming off him like heat and in his gaze that was boring into me like a laser. I felt something resembling a tonne weight land in my stomach.   
  
'Is it true?' He demanded, barely consealing his rage, 'are you...' But he didn't finish, he didn't really need to.  
  
All of a sudden, I was a child again. I hadn't set fire to the rug again, or used my first four letter word infront of my play school teacher, I had done something much, much worse. I stared at my feet, directing any challenge at my leather ankle boots instead of at the challenger infront of me. Some MacEwan you are, started than scorning voice again. 'What do you mean?' I asked meekly.  
  
'Morgan MacEwan,' He finally said, 'are you her?'  
  
I felt like I was signing my own death sentence. I looked up at him: 'Yes.'  
  
He looked at me like I had looked at him that time at blue's (Goddess, how could that have only been two days ago?) and I looked back at him with the same sickly resilience. Inside my stomach was squirming and my heart was lumping in my ears but outside, I was as tough as stone. He turned and began striding back down the path to the moor, so forcefully I would believe he could have parted waves. I stood there, dumbstruck. The deadening thud of my heart seemed the only thing I could sense as I watched his form stride away with the force of a hurricane.  
  
[There we are! Finally got it done. I'm not sure if this can be classified as a cliff hanger or not but if so, I'm sorry but Tough Shit! :)] 


	10. It begins

[Alright well, the story is coming to a close soon and I've thought long n hard about the ending n Im debating whether to go for a sequel, I think i'll need about 50+ reviews before I will tho0 so get typing if you want me to keep going. But anyway on with the chapter...]  
  
The wind and rain had been slashing the window for days and nights on end. I couldn't even see the mountains through it's shimmering haze. Not that I'd looked. I knew the October rain would be drowning the green moors. Much like the tears on my pillow...  
  
I'm not sure how long I had been in my bedroom, not moving more than a yard from my dampened bed. The storm seemed to have lasted for days and the muggy darkness it bought to. It projected my mood perfectly. But that didn't take away the ill lethargy or cold sweat that I just couldn't shake.  
  
But I was past crying now. Past screaming and whispering and whimpering: spells, curses, jibberish, names. His name...  
  
I heard a tap at the door. I had heard several of these over the hours and days I had been here, each one followed by my Mother's nervous calling of my name.  
  
'Morgan,' Killian poked his head around the door. I ripped my gaze away from the window and looked towards my brother. 'Just to tell you, I'm off. Everyone else is out, but Dad said I could borrow his car, so...' He trailed off, losing grip on his small talk.  
  
I sniffed and looked away, deciding on the cold indifference approach, 'S'pect he was glad to see you go. Cluttering up his sofa, sucking up his energy.'  
  
'Yeah,' he replied, getting a glint in his eye, 'I think I heard Selene offering to get the champers in when they were walking away.'  
  
I turned and saw his cheeky grin and my face cracked into a mona-lisa smile. Like a trickle through a Dam, and before I knew it, the floodgates broke and I had by arms around my brother and my head in his shoulder.  
  
I couldn't hide the full extent of such a heartbreak from Killian and bore my tears soaking his designer shirt. I heard my chest thumping again, but it only made me feel more hollow. 'Why?! Goddess, WHY did I have to be born to this? Why a Woodbane? Why a bloody MacEwan?! Murderers...'   
  
I was bearly aware that the questions I had been begging the answers to for days were pouring out before I could stop them. But they didn't seem to alarm Killian, or offend him. He just stood there, hugging me and after a second he sighed deeply, 'I think we've all asked that at one time or another,' he paused, seemingly thinking and I was left to marvel at the fact that my brother had ever been as ashamed as I felt of our family, 'look, I don't want to know what's gone on between you and this visitor,' as first I thought he meant Cal, and I was just thinking how wrong he was when I realised that he was not that stupid, afterall, he was there at Blue's, 'but I realise it's a bit late for me to just tell you to be careful and expect you to be fine. Just...hold up, ok?' He finished and kissed me on the forehead. I sniffed in reply, I couldn't think of anything else.  
  
'Kill', where are you gonna go?' I asked, almost needily as he turned out of the door.  
  
He turned back, and he was transformed back to the cheeky, ladies-man that everyone outside this house knew and adored. 'Wherever a fine young woman's skirt blows up that bit too high, I'll be there. Whenever someone is getting in an extra round of vodka shots, I'll be there-'  
  
'Okay, sorry I asked,' I laughed for the first time in a week.  
  
He grinned, kissed me on the forehead again and left. I watched from the window as he merrily walked around to Dads car, lugging his lone sports bag and singing along to an old Scottish folk song that I couldn't remember the words to. I watched as he tore up the village path, already over the speed limit as a lonely tear slipped down my cheek.  
  
*  
  
I must have been asleep when everyone got back, because all I remember is my Mum sitting on my bed, stroking my hair back off my forehead. It seemed to be a standard mum reflex to do this when they saw their child looking sick or unhappy. I just lay there, staring around groggily, while she gazed at me.  
  
'Killian's gone,' she said distractedly.  
  
'Yeah, I know. He came and said goodbye when you lot went out,' I informed her. I saw now that she had tears in her eyes, and there were damp patches around her beautiful Gaelic green iris's. I wondered if Dad had talked to her about me and Amyranth. 'Oh, that's good,' she started again in the same misty tone, 'he should have been able to-'  
  
'Mum', I interrupted, 'what's wrong?'  
  
Just as she opened her mouth to speak I heard a shout from somewhere downstairs, 'Sgiurs dan, could you come here please.' Dad.  
  
Mum looked almost frantic as I crossed the room to the door. I nearly expected her to jump up and pull me back. I knew something was going on. Dad knew I hated my coven name, and he rarely used such a companding tone of voice in the house. Then a terrible thought struck me: the Amyranth witches must be here. Here to size up a new piece of meat. No wonder Mum looked so panicky. So do you, said that little voice as a lump rose in my throat.  
  
Surely enough when I got downstairs the hall was empty but for five figures, whispering feverishly until I was sensed and they were silenced. I recognised them all instantly even for the animal masks three of them donned. Da stood in front, and Selene was behind him, the left most of the semi circle. Then there was Alicia behind the Owl face; Addison Baird (how easy to guess, his weezing was unmistakable) as the viper and then the tiger, Edwitha of Cair Dal. I took a deep breath.  
  
For a second the whole hall was silent, just the group infront of me scanning me up and down with more intensity than they ever had, and the faint sound of weeping coming from above the staircase. I looked up at Dad from my fixed stare at the tiled floor, seeing how he would deal with it. His face was stoney, deaf to anything outside of this space. I felt annoyed at him, couldn't he see how his wife, his soulmate was hurting up there?  
  
'Sgiurs dan, I have informed my colleagues that you have expressed an interest in studying for our coven,' started Dad formally, as the sound of crying continued and the butterflys wriggling in my stomach doubled in size, 'is this true?'  
  
I looked at him, and around at all the other figures infront of me. Dad looked strong and proper, though I could see pride glittering behind his eyes, but I could sense his uncomfort at hearing Mums sobs. Selene had a hungry, almost feral look in her golden eyes, and she was obviously eagerly awaiting the power I had to bring, as well as the obvious insane jealousy. The others had there faced covered but from what I could sense, they seemed the same,just with a far icier exterior and annoyance at the weeping that seemed to be ruining the occasion.  
  
And all this took place in a heart beat. 'Yes, yes that's right,' I replied, trying to sound strong infront of these people that could sense and exploit weakness in a second.   
  
Dad then began explaining a minor oath that I would have to take and seal with blood. I don't know for how long he spoke, for I was lost in my own head, where all I could hear was my Mothers sobs. All this because a Seeker had come to town.How tragically ironic. I never figured this day would actually come, I always thought I would worm out of ever having to make a decision on my future. I know Da always had such great ambitions for me, but I got so sick of hearing about how great I was going to make Woodbanes and our family in particular, I mostly just agreed without taking any of it in. And, to be honest, I never really believed him. I had heard so much about my powers, my legacy, my incredibility, that that's exactly what it all became, incredible. Something to inflate my ego so that I would do Amyranths bidding and continue the family line. I had partook in dark spells before but nothing sinister enough for death, because you always feel it, death, when it comes to you or to another at your hand. Even if you're at separate ends of the Earth and surrounded by a circle of hundreds, you feel it like a gale force wind blasting you away, one for each soul you set free, to just be chained and tethered forever to the dark cloud that freed it. These people infront of me enjoyed that feeling, like a junky getting hit again and again. The whole idea always scared me, I always just thought if I was pressured into something like this then Killian and I would run away somewhere and live happy and forever-youthful lives. But Killian was far away and the only way forward was here, now, as a death-dealer, a true Destroyer.   
  
In my coma-like trance, a few words in my Dads sermon reached my ears and broke through my conciousness, '...you must renounce the council, and all the evil they do to our kind...' The council. Those people that I was meant to hate. And those people that I did hate until a few days ago. Until that Hunter Niall walked into my life like a wrecking ball. Just staying there, down in the village, without a thought for his own mortal danger...Down in the village, where his warm arms would be, and his soft lips and pale, severe, proper English accent and green eyes. Green as the Irish hills...  
  
'Morgan?' Was the first thing I heard then. I stared emptily at the man infront of me who had said it, and at the confused, irratated expression on his face. I had not been listening.  
  
Then I did something I had never once done before. I walked away from my father as he was speaking to me. In fact, I walked to the front door and out of it, and on to the frozy, dark path that led away from the house. All in such a daze I didn't notice the wind whipping around and numbing my cheeks, or my Fathers yells to me as I strode away. I knew my path now, this path, and I knew it would take me to somewhere warm and safe and loving and sexy. Somewhere that would not make my mother weep, or my father scan me with fierce pride. Somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was in the arms of my soulmate.  
  
[There we are! Finally did it, but be warned this is not the end of this story, no, still one more chapter to go! Oh, I'm looking forward to the reviews for that one!] 


	11. Tainted Love

[Hey. Well, I've changed my mind, this is not going to be the last chapter, I'm gonna have one more after this one. It's not that I'm trying to drag the story out or anything, but I feel like the whole ending shouldn't have to be squeezed into one chapter. Anyway, here we are, chapter-second-but-last...]  
  
I have been sitting here for three hours staring at the pay phone two feet away. Athar tried to talk to me a few minutes ago, but after I barely heard what she said, and stalked off somewhere in frustration. I've been building myself up to call Kennet, get me another job, but I cannot bring myself to. I don't feel like I can leave. Leave, without so much as closure. Because I know if I did leave, then I would be abandoning my dreams of vengence against Selene and Cal, and the whole of Amyranth, the dream that has spurred me on to become what I am all my life. But everything is different now.  
  
I'm quiet. I've been so worked up over the past few days I feel too tired to be anything else. I wonder what phase she's in. If she hasn't already shacked back up with Cal...  
  
How could I ever get involved with a MacEwan? The most putrid, evil of all the notorious dark dynasties. For all I know, she's already got blood on her hands. How was it that she never seemed dark then? How was it, with all my capacity as a agent of the good-guys, a simple pair of hazel eyes deceived me and made me practically doubt my own sanity?  
  
I am such a pitiful figure. Here, slumped over an old desk, somewhere in Scotland, dreaming about a girl who I should not want, and who doesn't seriously want me. Why would she, when she has an American stud already in her house, and probably her bed.  
  
Goddess of all, I admit it. I have fallen in love with a girl named Morgan, with the flowing mahogony hair and the sexy brown eyes, where I see pure happiness. But we won't be. Because we can't be. And there is no point getting angry and doing something I may still regret. Goddess knows what all this could drive me to.  
  
-Giomanach.  
  
'Hello?' I called out at the desk of the Bed 'n' Breakfast. The silence was almost eerie over the dusty countertop. I waited a minute until I felt his energy, like a tsunami on the shore. Abandoning the polite signing-in method, I started exploring. It seemed like an eternity walking up that hallway to the only door I could see. What if he didn't want to see me? Thoughts started popping up in my head. What if this has all been for nothing, and I'm thrown out onto the street? Because there is no way Da will have me back...This has been a stupid mistake. Even as I came to that conclusion, I kept on creeping towards that door. The triangle of dusty sunlight that slid out of the ajar doorway lit up and warmed my cheek and I could see the dustmotes dancing and spiralling with every breath I took. He can't love me, not a MacEwan, not ever, I thought as I pushed open the door.  
  
I noted a floral patterned room, with a yellow dullness to everything, including the several wicker-backed chairs around tables that littered the room. Everything seemed dusty, old and sun-bleached. In the first few seconds I was dazzled by the light hitting off the lino of the table-cloths and french windows at the back, and I thought there was no one there. But as my eyes adjusted, I saw a blonde young man sitting with in a chair a few metres away, staring out the window ponderously. He hadn't even sensed me, I realised, not sure whether to be nervous or amused. Now what do I do? I thought, suddenly not wanting to alert him to my presence at all. But the dustmotes where against me and they were surrounding my nose. I sneezed.  
  
He shot around at once, his seeker reflexes kicking into action. His eyes shot up and down at me, and then settled on my eyes and I knew I didn't have to say a word to explain. I felt rooted to the spot as he walked closer to me. First pacing, then striding. His arms came around me and pulled me to him, and all in a second my hands were at the back of his neck and in his hair pushing his face down to me. I kissed him and he kissed me so strongly I felt my heart surge. It felt like we had just dropped a match onto a lake of oil the way we kissed and moved against eachother.   
  
It felt better than the exhilaration of a circle, because I was sharing it with him. I felt right, and he felt right. And before I knew it we were up the stairs and backing into his bedroom. I kicked the door shut as he fell with me onto the bed.  
  
The next morning came, and I woke up, rolled over, and I panicked to feel my back leaning against a warm chest. Goddess, how had I ended up in bed with Cal?  
  
Before I could jump out an arm came round my waist and my senses flickered on. Hunter's slightly grinning face turned up from the pillow. I had to take a second to take him in. He had his back to the window, and the sun outlining his fresh naked chest and short golden hair was amazing. I felt my breath fall away.  
  
'It is the East, and you are the sun.'  
  
I was startled to hear my own voice quote Romeo & Juliet, a piece of my GCSE English Lit. course I thought I had long forgotten. Hunter seemed amused, 'always nice to wake up to the sound of Shakespeare.'  
  
I could have blasted him. Instead, I giggled as he started kissing my wrist and his lips climbed up my arm. And I don't giggle.   
  
His slightly stubbley mouth felt fabulous as they slightly grazed against my neck and I sent my hands slowly exploring over his back and neck. He was far better at this than Cal, the thought emerged in my head. I felt slightly sickened by myself, and pushed it out of my mind. The worst of witches can sense the slightest of thoughts, and I was sure Hunter would be alert to anything comparing him to his half-brother.  
  
We carried on like this for a few minutes, until I felt his hands moving over my side and stopping to examine something. I ripped my thoughts away from the passion welling up for him. He had stopped on my athame birthmark.  
  
Like a blind man on braille, he traced the outline of the Woodbane dagger, and turned to face me, an intriguing expression in his focused green eyes, one eyebrow slightly lowered. I suppressed a shiver.   
  
'Deny thy Father, and refuse thy name.' He make it sound like a serious question.   
  
'I will,' I replied. I should have stopped there, continued in our passion, but I didn't, I just had to quote once more, 'But what's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.'  
  
'You know what's in a name,' he said, all joking gone,'especially yours.'  
  
Too late, I remembered Killian telling me about what had happened to his family, how he had become the vengeful orphan he was now. Dad had told me more than once that the legacy of the dark wave flooded through MacEwan veins, though I knew no details. I didn't blame him when he backed to the other end of the bed and pulled on his boxer shorts.  
  
But I wasn't prepared to just let him walk away from me. 'I am not my father!' He turned to face me, 'And I'm no murderer, and never will be. I'm just someone who left her family and everything she's ever known just so she can come here and say she loves you!'  
  
He looked at me, analysing and judging like a Seeker always did. I grew angry. I heard a bird twittering outside the sun light-room, scratching at my brain like all the other things overloading my mind. And I lost control. My hand flew out in rage and I felt my astral self take hold of the tiny bird, so joyful at the rare sun, and pinch it's heart into stillness. It was a tiny little robin and it fell, cold and flightless to the goddess that hadn't wanted it to rejoin her so young.  
  
My heart felt like that bird as he stared at me in hatred, 'No murderer, not ever,' he quoted.  
  
I crumpled in on myself, and he slammed the door behind him. My energy followed him out of the house, where he mentally slapped it away. Despair touched me then, tainted me worse than any bloodline, cushioned me like a suffocating, piercing shield of self-hatred.   
  
I turned and threw up over the side of the bed.  
  
[Hmm, ok, definitely the last chapter next time. Sorry if the Shakespeare was corny but I read the 'deny thy father' line a while ago n just figured the situation was sorta ironicly similar. And if ya dont agree, you know where ya can stick it....on the review page!;)] 


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